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Deadliest Catch
A lone Shinigami stands his ground amidst the hexagonal stage of the Underground Assembly Hall, the flow of a milky-white haori like a cape behind him indicating his authority as a captain among the Thirteen Court Guard Squadrons. In his respect of his superiors, whom had professed the longing of keeping their identities a secret through the use of large plaques situated before each of their faces, he kept his gaze low, daring not to exploit so much as a breadth of disarray. "Izari Kenshiko, if I recall," one spoke out, "yes, you have proven yourself through your many obligations at our behest as a member of the Onmitsukidō, and then some following your promotion to the role of a Captain; namely it is your extermination of former Eleventh Division Captain, , that has intrigued us to once more request your talents in service. "As I am sure you are aware, the previous Captain of the Fourth Division, Rikuri Ukitake, was tried for misconduct some time ago, and as a result, has faced exilement from the Seireitei. This has left the Soul Society in a bit of a crisis; for, without a leader capable of fulfilling medical obligations, our ranks are left hindered, the wounded virtually left uncared for. "This is, in short, why we have summoned you here, now: it shall be your duty from this moment onwards to find a soul capable of leading over the Fourth Division. You are mandated to explore the full extents of the Rukongai during your endeavors, however, do so knowing that you are being watched but always, with our many platoons of surveillance instigated about every inch of every district. "Have you any objections, Captain?" "Nay, only a single request, if I may." There was a long silence. "And what might this 'request' of yours be, exactly?" Raising his head some, a grin could be seen playing along Izari's chasmed lips. "That you bestow upon me the authority to see for myself just how truly 'capable' the souls I find are of being a Captain." Deadliest Catch She awoke under the embrace of a well-kept bed. She brushed aside her tangled brown locks of hair, opening her cerulean eyes and looking out the bedside window exposing the residential district underneath the night sky. The sweet scent of an assortment of decorated candles along an L-shaped table greeted her into reality from her despotic dream. Intricate origami designs of animal shapes and various colors stood carefully spaced upon the same table, complemented the floral tapestry characterizing the wall. The woman took a moment to sigh in relief. Wherever she was, she lay in relative safety, assuming her new surroundings painted a genuine picture. She should have died, but it did not even occur to her until she sat upright to contemplate the eventful night. Merely the thought of what had happened to her practically threw her back in time to relive the accompanying panic and fear. An uncontrolled shiver rattled down her spine. Her residential district was often quaint and uneventful even during the day. It had never occurred to her during her habitually short trek home that she would be assaulted by an unfamiliar assailant. She barely had a moment to gaze into the assailant's doll-like eyes before a blade was swung against her neck. Only silence would follow afterward. Yes, she was beheaded, or so far as she could recall. The bone-chilling blade tore through cartilage just gradually enough that she knew well of her impending demise before falling into unconsciousness. She could swear that she should have died then and there, but not a single wound lingered from where the blade had struck. Were she not within a dream, what, then, could explain her miraculous revival? “Wide awake, are we?” sounded a womanly voice drawing closer toward the room's entryway. The revived woman remained comfortably in bed, tranced by a calm she could not quite place. The woman who had spoken took a peek inside the room before fully revealing herself. Her dark brown was neatly trimmed with a fringe defined by the bunches of hair tied into a ponytail around the side of her face. Her body was clad almost seductively in black, but the look upon her matured face suggested something of a more modest persona. She pulled up a chair laying up against the wall, taking a close seat with her legs resting on the bed. She briefly leaned forward to examine the woman in rest with her glimmering amber eyes. “So… how's life?” The rather aloof question escaping the black-clad woman's lips came as a surprise to the woman in rest, but that nevertheless made her feel almost at home. Almost as if she were staring at her savior. The woman in rest paused to consider a response. That it had taken so long to consider asking where she was had almost convinced her that she had lost her mind. “W… What do you mean? Where am I?” “Ah, good question,” the black-clad woman responded, enunciating those words as though she had hoped for such a question. “If you've got the mind to wonder where you are now, at least I can be glad my work all went as planned.” she leaned closer again. “And here's my answer: I'm at home where I belong. And since I'm next to you, you're probably there, too. Feel free to stay forever if that's what you want.” The woman in rest placed a palm upon her neck. “Am I… Am I dead?” The black-clad woman pointed a finger at the woman. “Take a good look around. Anything seem familiar to you?” The woman in rest promptly nodded. “So you've got your own memory, and you're not a long way from home. My name is Tsukada Hisaka. Nice to meet you wide awake, neighbor.” Tsukada Hisaka… the woman in rest froze at the mention of that name. She swore she might have heard it at a time during her childhood. “My name is Manami. Chokoto Manami.” Hisaka simply smiled before standing from her chair, approaching what appeared to be a ceremonial spear laying on the floor against the table. “So, then, were you planning to head out?” Manami sat against the edge of the bed, fully recovered but unsure of her predicament. “What are you going to do?” “Well,” Hisaka began before lifting up the spear with a single hand, its tip nearly reaching to the tall ceiling as she positioned it upright, “we've got an uninvited guest from the looks of it, and since I'm here, might as well do the community a service. You don't need to be scared. Whether you stay, run away, run home, or even if you follow me, I've got your back covered. That's a promise I can keep.” Without saying another word or waiting on Manami, Hisaka quietly departed from her home and stepped outside. The air blew placidly as it whistled against the assortment of residential buildings, the only cadence tending to the deserted road. Hisaka carelessly lifted her spear over her shoulder as she stood in wait. She knew she would only remain there for so long. She knew what she would have to face. And before long, her opponent appeared before her very eyes, summoned within a dense fog a few yards away—a pale woman familiar in the most augury sense, as though Hisaka were staring at a reflection of a dreary mirror. The assailant, differentiated with the glare of a granular puppet, advanced upon Hisaka before she could do little else than stare, brandishing a sword still fresh with blood. Shocked but ever resolute, Hisaka did not waver. She would defend herself not with the spear in her hand, but merely with an arm raised against the impending thrust. The assailant came to a halt with the tip of its blade resting harmlessly within Hisaka's enclosed palm as though it were thrust before an impenetrable wall. A suspenseful look started upon the puppet's formerly hollow visage before its body and blade erupted as a blackened miasma encroaching upon Hisaka's figure. It danced around her form in the shape of a sphere, blazing turquoise to match the color of her Reiatsu before drowning within it to become one and the same. Hisaka's Reiatsu had always been so vitriolic, but not until then had it taken shape as a maleficent creature. As Yin and Yang existed as reflections of one another, the woman found chaos and disarray following each and every miracle bestowed with her profound power. But what was more, she could not find a balance. Time was short; she would need a miracle of her own. But in the end, this was just another day for the fabled convoy of life and death. She gave an exasperated sigh before retiring back into her residence, intent on guiding Manami before concluding her night.